Opening Day
by subtle love
Summary: A oneshot minific of Draco and Hermione a light piece with some humor and an amusingly romantic end.


Opening Day

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, places, potions, spells, concepts of Hogwarts and wizardry, or anything you may recognize from the works of J.K. Rowling and other authors. -subtle love-

A half-smile flickered across her face knowingly as she was announced Head Girl. She had waited for this day, and knew that it would happen, eventually, but it was nice to hear it in words. Also similarly nice, she received her own room, with a shared commonroom and balcony with Head Boy. It would be nice to have someone to converse with at her level.

Albus Dumbledore waved his wand with a sharp flicker to silence the room, his eyes twinkling with, what, mischief? "And Head Boy is,.." Pausing before the crucial moments was something he had picked up from watching too many muggle movies while eating the sweets at the cinema. "Draco Malfoy."

There was a stunned silence in Gryffindor, apart from the few unknowing first years. All of them had assumed Harry would be Head Boy, simply because of who he was. And those with better sense had thought that it would perhaps have been Dean Thomas, or at least some Gryffindor, _any_ Gryffindor. After a moment, they reluctantly clapped, as it was the polite thing to do, but more than one was more than obviously unenthused.

And Hermione's heart had stopped beating. Draco.. Malfoy..? She had to share.. the two most important parts of her room.. with Draco Malfoy? It thudded a beat and she brought her hands together slowly, hesitant to clap, but she did, twice. Then she dropped her hands, and would have burst out of the room if it wasn't first day. She was Head Girl, and she had to set an example. She could feel her breath come in and out, but she wasn't quite synchronized with it. Her body collapsed within itself and Harry patted her back comfortingly, though he knew even that it would be awful.

XxXxX

"Head Girl," she muttered to herself, "Would be nothing without her Head Boy. I do wish that they would change the system, at least a bit. Not fair at all if another girl has higher marks than him, and completely unjustified that I'm expected to do everything with him." Everything including the Yule Ball, festival dances, and classes. Was she not allowed to live her own life without _him_ being forced onto her?

"And you think it's a party for me?" Draco's voice sounded at the door connecting her room to the commonroom. She hadn't realized he had heard her.

She puffed her breath out sharply, causing wispy chestnut hair to flutter to the side of her face rather than before it. "Let's just say the feeling's mutual, Malfoy." She said the name with malice. "I don't like this situation any more than you do."

She could feel his snicker through the door. "Hence the mutual feeling, Granger. I'm not dim-witted, like Potter and Weasley. Unlike _them_, I don't need any words paraphrased so I catch their meaning."

Frowning as she stood to fold her clothes into the dresser, she turned to the door. "Hence the lack of dimmed wits," was her abrupt response when she could pry her mouth open to dignify the statement. "And _Harry_ and _Ron_ are _not_ dim-witted. And why are you just standing outside my door? Don't you have better things to do?"

"I do, in fact. Good _bye_, Granger." The bye was enunciated sharply, and she could sense his abrupt turn as he left for his room. Well, it served him right.

"Stuck up Slytherin."

XxXxX

He pushed himself lazily out of bed; now was no time to slump into the dangerous habit of sleep. Ha.

A two-minute shower in the small shower, despite the long one he had taken in the head student's bathroom the night before to keep his mind off things, and then it took roughly the same amount of time to get changed. Then came hair, which he brushed though with a damp comb; it ran through like silk, perfectly. "And so school begins. Prepare thyself." He smirked in the mirror snidely. Even at himself. Because that was just sad, and he knew it.

"Talking to yourself, Malfoy? Or do you have some male friend in there that I didn't know about?" What the _hell_ was Granger doing outside his door. As if she knew what he was thinking, she seemingly responded, "Just figured I'd pay you the same courtesy you did me a day ago."

He shook his head. '_Catch this though, mudblood._' She hadn't, obviously, but it was worth trying. "Wonderful. So leave then."

And he could sense her open her mouth to speak, then snap it shut. He could just hear her "I wish you would, " and then some, but the last half he couldn't make out, as she was already obliging by crossing back to her room.

"Damned mudblood. As if there aren't enough problems in the world." For example the problem of his father, pressuring him to officially join _them_, and the minor, sniveling one of Pansy, who couldn't seem to keep her hands away all of last school and summer. Now this; him virtually _living_ with Granger. Not that he hadn't expected her to be Head Girl, but he at least deserved a decent area _away_ from her. Not practically living on top of her.

His frown deepened as that formed a mental picture, and he shook his head violently, once, as if it would knock it out of his mind forever. It didn't work, but it did land him a raging headache. "Wonderful, Malfoy. You're off to a good start," was his dark mutter as he stormed off to the Great Hall.

XxXxX

"Mione, you're living with him?" Ron asked incredulously for the thousandth time. "I mean, I knew that the Head Girl and Boy stayed in nearly the same areas, but now that it's you and Malfoy.. It would seem like they'd give the two of you an exception." He frowned and glared over at the Slytherins. "Especially considering his more than evident dark ties."

"Ron, it-" She was almost immediately interrupted by Harry, who shook his head at her lightly as though to apologize ahead of time, and spoke.

"Ron, she knew that she would have to stay with someone. We all thought it would be someone that she'd get along with. But it's not, and so she's got to deal with it." Then he chuckled, taking a swig of cider. "But really, the two of you going to the Yule Ball,.." He only laughed harder as her face reddened. She _was_ going to have to go with him, wasn't she? And she couldn't do anything about it. Amazing.. Her last dance would be with Malfoy. That was just brilliant. "And everything else.." He had gotten Ron started too.

"You know, I should have given up on the two of you years ago," she proclaimed indignantly. "I just don't see the point! I finally get what I've been longing for forever- not the Malfoy part, mind you, Head Girl- and you laugh when it's completely marred, or scarred, or whatever you want to say, ruined, by Malfoy! Really, Ron, Harry!" Her tone was reprimanding, but even she gave up into a helpless fit of giggles. She didn't know what was so funny, but her mind must have and not told her, because there she was.

"Sorry- 'Mione-" Harry managed, finally. "But it really was-"

"Yes, Harry, was," she said sharply, with a tone of finality that brought Ron back to a pathetic stream of half chuckles. "As in past tense. As in not funny _now_. Anymore, at any rate. But really, it isn't justified. Why should I have to go with Malfoy just because he has the highest grades out of all the males. Harry, what were you _doing_ when I was helping you? Ron?" Actually, she knew perfectly well what they had been doing. The two of them had been trying to sneak hexes at the other students in the library, and when they moved to the commonroom, even at fellow Gryffindors. The two looked at each other at the abrupt change, and she shook her head. "Nevermind. Malfoy must be rubbing off on me; I just hope the increase in.. whatever doesn't.. whatever. Are the two of you done? If we get to class early then I can ask Professor Flitwick a few questions about the reading.."

"The reading?" Ron was taken aback. "What reading?"

"Oh, you know." She shrugged modestly. "The book?"

XxXxX

She had still been in the library, already studying, but Madame Pince had told her to leave, that it was unhealthy and unnatural and she didn't want her staying up so late just for school. At least build up your tolerance for lack of sleep, if you're going to anyhow, she had told her. So she had gone to her room and read, then re-read through all of her books. It didn't seem like she was really reading them the fifth time through. It felt detached. And now, she was wandering down the hallways, after hours, to the head student's bathroom, carrying only pajamas and a night robe with her, as the bathroom had everything she could need; she had found that out easily enough the first day.

She walked up to the portrait, lightly stepping forward, half-wondering if she might not be admitted in because of the late time. "Safflower," she murmured quietly, and it swung open, silent on its hinges. Without a sound she hung her school robe on a hook, the only sound in the bathroom the light gurgling of water, with occasional surges of the pressure in the bathtub. Then she stripped off her clothes, down to the matching pink panties and bra that rested under her clothes like silk. Well, actually, they were silk; a present from her Aunt Ahlla. She still thought she had confused her and Miara's presents, as Miara had gotten a rather thick book on medieval history; everyone knew Miara didn't like history, and everyone knew _exactly_ what Miara liked. Not the standard things set as the basic elements of the promising teen. Ha.

She hmm-ed to herself disapprovingly, yet still light-hearted; after all, school was back in session.

And then the curtain to the wash tub flew open and Draco Malfoy was standing, making ready to get out, naked. "What. The. _Hell_, Granger." She would have been staring, had she not been busy reaching for her robe, quickly wrapping it around herself as a towel found its way to elegantly drape around Malfoy's waist.

"I-I thought-.." She wasn't flustered, not exactly, not for her, but not for him either. "The portrait, it.. let me in. I thought it wasn't supposed to unless- it-.." She stopped talking as he advanced on her, a tall, glaring thing of rippling muscles and, well, a fluffy white towel.

"Shut- up- Granger." And he kissed her.

XxXxX

A/N: So how's that for a ficlet I wrote two years ago, hmm? I'm under the impression that it's probably better than my new writing, simply because it's light.. "love-love!" for reading, and indulge me; _review_. I do enjoy it, regardless of length- that you take the time to leave one means a lot to me..


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